Vol 2 Chapter 1301:

　　 "You don't have to be like this." Fanlin said, looking at Hermione with a little distress.
This is definitely an insulting term, but Hermione now accepts it frankly and is proud of it. What Fanlin has to do is to change the wizard’s consensus and use words to divide wizards, which in itself is a very bad thing. .
　　 "Interesting saying."
　　 "I am just stating a fact, as if we do not discriminate against fairies or house elves..."
　　 "But you still have a house-elf servant." Griphook said lightly.
　　 "Dobby is our friend. Believe it or not, Fanlin will pay him every month." Hermione said angrily, "Moreover, we still have..."
　　 "I believe in you." Griphook suddenly interrupted. Hermione's eyes widened. Griphook can so easily...
"I don't care, you saved me, took me out of there, and just told you, all of this is valuable, so now what do you want to find in Leicester's vault?" Griphook first He looked at Fanlin, then turned his gaze to Harry again.
　　 "I think you already know, you want me to lie for you."
　　 "But that vault is not only a fake sword, is it?" Harry asked, "Perhaps you have seen other things in it?"
　　Harry's heartbeat has never been faster than he has tried to ignore the pain from the scar. The goblin curled his beard with his fingers again.
"It is against our laws to tell the secrets of Gringotts. We are the guardians of the legendary treasure. We are responsible for what we make." The goblin knocked on the sword, and his black eyes went from Harry, Fanlin, Hermione, and Ron scanned the faces back and forth. "So young," he said, "I have to fight so many people."
　　 "Will you help us?" Harry asked, "Without the help of the goblin, we have no hope of breaking in. You are our only chance."
　　 "I want to...think about it," Griphook said coldly.
　　 "But..." Ron was angry and wanted to talk, and Hermione gently touched his ribs to stop him.
　　 "Thank you." Harry said. The goblin nodded his big round head and bent his legs.
　　 "I think," he said braggingly sitting on Bill and Fleur's bed, "The healing potion has completed its mission. I'm going to sleep, please forgive me..."
　　 "Oh, of course," Harry said, and before leaving, he bent down and took the Gryffindor sword from Griphook. Griphook didn't stop him, but Harry saw a hint of resentment in his eyes when he saw Griphook closing the door.
　　 "Little goblin," Ron said softly, "he's trying to beat our appetite!"
"However, Fanlin!" Hermione pulled them from the door to the center of the dark stair landing, and whispered, "Did you and Harry mean that I understand? You mean Lester Is there a Horcrux in Ranchi's vault?"
"Yes," Fanlin said, "Bellatrix thought we had been there, and she almost went crazy. Why? She thought we saw something? She thought we took something? She I was shocked. If that thing is lost, the mysterious person will know."
　　 "But I thought we were looking for places where the mysterious man has been, and where he did some great things, didn't he?" Ron said bewildered, "has he been to the vault in Lestrange?"
"In fact, I don't know if he has been to the interior of Gringotts," Fanlin said truthfully, looking at Harry with some doubts, "When he was young, he didn't have any savings there because No one left him a legacy. He should have only seen Gringotts outside, and never walked in."
"I think he is jealous of everyone who has the key to the Gringotts vault. He thinks it is a true symbol of the wizarding world. Don't forget, he trusted Bellatrix. Before his downfall, they were his best Loyal servant, when he disappeared, Bellatrix continued to search for him. And, just like before, he did not tell Bellatrix that it was a Horcrux, just as he did not. What is Lucius Malfoy's diary. He may just tell her that it is his treasure and let her put it in her vault."
　　 "But, why is that?" Hermione said puzzledly, "Will Voldemort trust fairies?"
"In fact, if you want to hide things, that is the safest place in the world...except Hogwarts." Ron hesitated and said, seeing that they didn't interrupt, which made Ron light Lightly relieved.
　　 "Voldemort would do this, I can feel it!" Harry said, "however, what shall we..."
　　 "We can rely on this!" Fanlin said, taking a bunch of hair from his pocket, "I took some when I left."
　　 "Then let's make this decision first." Harry nodded, "Now, let's go to Ollivander, I have some questions to ask him."
　　 across the narrow landing, knocked on the door opposite Bill and Fleur's room. A weak voice said, "Please come in."
　　The wand maker lies on a single bed away from the window. He has been tortured in the basement for more than a year. The bones protruded from his thin face. In the sunken eye sockets, a pair of silver eyes are frighteningly big. The hands exposed outside the blanket are like skeletons.
　　 Four people went in and sat on another empty bed. The rising sun cannot be seen here, and the room is facing the garden on the top of the cliff. The sunlight shines through the windows and looks brighter than ever.
　　 coincided with each other, which gave the people in the house a feeling of being separated.
　　 Malfoy’s castle is too dim, and the depressive atmosphere and tight nerves can easily collapse.
　　 "Mr. Ollivander, I'm sorry to disturb you," Harry said.
　　 "Dear boy," Ollivander's voice was weak. "You saved us, I thought we would die there, this kindness...this life is hard to repay..."
　　 "We are glad to rescue you." Harry's scar began to throb. He knew that he didn't have much time to completely destroy Voldemort's plan, or even prevent him from implementing it. He felt a panic... But when he chose to speak to Griphook first, he had already chosen his own path.
　　 Pretending to be calm, he took out the bag containing his own wand from his pocket.
　　 "Mr. Ollivander, I need your help."
　　 "Anything, just say it." The wand maker said weakly.
　　 "Can you fix this? Is it possible to fix it?"
　　 Ollivander held out a trembling hand, and Harry put the wand that was almost broken in two into his hand.
　　 "Holly wood, Phoenix feathers," Ollivander said in a trembling voice. "Eleven inches, very soft."
　　 "Yes," Harry said, "Can you...?"
　　 "No," Ollivander whispered. "I'm sorry, I'm very sorry, but as far as I know, it's impossible to repair a wand that has suffered such damage."
　　 Although Harry was prepared, these words were still a huge blow to him. He took the wand back and put it back in the bag. Ollivander stared at the bag until Harry took out the two wands he had snatched from Wormtail.
　　 "Can you identify this wand?" Harry asked.
　　The wand maker took one of the wands, placed it in front of his silver-gray eyes, turned it between the knuckles, and bends gently.
　　 "Walnut, dragon heartstring," he said. "Twelve and three-quarters of an inch. Can't be bent. This is Bellatrix Lestrange's wand."
　　 "What about this one?" Ollivander also checked the other wand.
"Chestnut, Dragon Heartstring. Nine and a quarter inch. Fragile and fragile. Soon after being kidnapped, I was forced to make this wand for Peter Pettigrew. Yes, if you win it, it will obey you more. Command, and will do better than any wand."
　　 "Win?" Harry repeated confused. "Doesn't it belong to him now?"
　　 Harry recalled Peter, in fact, he did not use magic to subdue him.
　　 "May not belong to him anymore. If you have used it..."
　　 "Yes, I have used..."
"...Then it may be yours. Of course, the question of ownership. More depends on the wand itself. However, generally speaking, after the wand is taken away, it will be loyal to the new owner." The room was quiet for a moment. , Can only hear the sound of distant waves hitting the rocks.
　　 "You speak as if the wand itself has feelings," Harry said, "as if they can think about themselves."
　　 "The wand chooses the wizard." Ollivander said. "Those of us who study magic wands have always understood this."
　　 "But we can still use the wand without choosing ourselves?" Harry asked.
"Yes, as long as you are a wizard, you can use any tool to perform magic. However, the best effect is only when the wizard and the wand have the closest connection. This connection is complicated. The first is the attraction of each other, and then the adaptation to each other. In this process, the magic wand learns from the wizard, and the wizard learns from the magic wand."
　　 The waves hit the rocks repeatedly, making a sad sound.
　　 "I snatched this wand from Peter Pettigrew," Harry asked, "Can I use it safely?"
　　 "I think so. The subtle laws govern the ownership of the wand, but the conquered wand usually obeys the new owner."
　　 "Are all wands like this?" Harry asked.
　　 "I think so," Ollivander said, his protruding eyes fixed on Harry's face.
　　 "Mr. Potter, you asked a profound question. Wand studies are a very complex and mysterious branch of magic."
　　 "So, isn't the former owner who killed the wand necessary to possess the wand?" Harry asked.
　　 Ollivander swallowed.
　　 "Necessary? No, I don't think it is necessary to kill the previous owner."
　　 "But there is such a legend," Harry said, his heart beating faster and the pain of his scars intensified; he was sure that Voldemort was preparing to act. "About one... or a few... the legend of the wand passed down through killing" Ollivander's face turned pale. Against the snow-white pillow, his face was pale, and his bloodshot eyes were wide open, full of fear.
　　 "There is only one wand, I think," he whispered.
　　 "Mystery people are very interested in this, aren't they?" Harry asked.
　　 "I...you..." Ollivander hissed and he looked at Fanlin and Hermione pleadingly.
　　 "How do you know?"
　　 "He wants you to tell him how to break the connection between our wands," Harry said calmly.
　　 Ollivander looked scared. "He tortured me, you must understand! That is a heart-breaking spell! I... I have no choice but to tell him what I know, what I guess!"
　　 "I understand," Harry said. "You told him the connection between the cores of the wands? You told him that another wizard's wand was needed?" Ollivander looked horrified, stunned by what Harry knew. He nodded slowly.
　　 "But it's not like that," Harry went on, my wand still defeated the borrowed wand. Do you know why? "
　　 Like nodding just now, Ollivander shook his head slowly. "I've never heard of such a thing from.... Something amazing happened to your wand that night. The connection between the two wand cores is indeed rare. As for why your wand slammed into it. A borrowed wand, I don’t know..."
　　 "We are talking about another wand, the wand that changed hands through murder. When the mysterious man realized that my wand did something strange, he came back and asked you about the other wand, didn't he?"
"How did you know?"
　　 Harry didn't answer, but looked at Ollivander quietly.
　　 "Yes, he asked," Ollivander whispered. "He wants to know everything I know... everything about the rod of death, the rod of fate, the wand of the elders."
　　 This is exactly what Harry cared about. He was afraid that he couldn't help but yell out because of his excitement.
"The Dark Lord," Ollivander whispered in horror, "I've always been happy with the wand I made for him...yes, the phoenix feather, thirteen and one-quarter inches long, until he found two wands. The connection between the cores ~EbookFREE.me~ Now he wants to find another more powerful wand as the only way to destroy your wand."
　　 "But he will know right away...even if it doesn't exist yet...my wand is ruined and can't be repaired anymore," Harry said softly.
　　 "No!" Hermione said in horror. "He wouldn't know, Harry, how could he...?"
"Lucius has seen it. Harry's wand is broken in two, but even if your wand is still there, I don't think it will work anymore." Fanlin said, "Voldemort finds the old wand, sooner or later. Don’t forget what kind of identity Voldemort is now. If anyone can make the old magic wand recognize the Lord, he is probably the only one."
"No, it's impossible. The old magic wand has no owner." Ollivander immediately retorted, "In fact, no magic wand is so...indifferent...as long as the user is defeated, or, from the use of He snatched it from his hand, no matter what method was used, the old magic wand would be used immediately..."
　　 "That's why it is called the Death Rod, Mr. Ollivander!"
　　 "Do you believe this legend? Deathly Hallows?"
　　 "Just like you..." Fanlin said, "These are all traceable facts. As long as they are not covered up, many people can find out that he is not."
　　
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